


Maybe I Do Look Good In It

by Demenior



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen, It's a skirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco takes a dare from Jake, and he is supremely pleased by the result.</p>
<p>...But he's not sure he has any right to feel so good in a skirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I Do Look Good In It

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [It's Not Like You Look Good In It Or Anything!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/464845) by [mademoisellePlume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mademoisellePlume/pseuds/mademoisellePlume). 



> Part of the Remix Challenge hosted by Poetry (or Featherquillpen)
> 
> It was tough picking just one story to remix- but I am really happy with the result here!

It was a stupid bet. That was all. _Normal_ guys did it all the time. Pick something stupid and trivial and make a competition out of it (such as who could get the _best_ score in five rounds of Ultimate Racing 300) and pick increasingly absurd things for the loser to do.

Jake was usually so tame in his dares. Things like ‘you have to wear your shirt backwards for a whole day at school’  or ‘you have to do my homework for a week’ to which Marco would up the ante by replying ‘if I win you have to lick Homer’s poop’. It only escalated from there.

Which was why Marco was desperately trying to find any reason to get out of Jake’s dare. Anything. Usually Jake would cheat a little when he was ahead, like shouldering Marco off of his own controller, so Marco could claim foul if he really wanted to get out, but Jake hadn’t even hit him this time. It had been so close and Marco was pretty sure that the game had _glitched_ on him, but only a weenie would use that as an excuse.

Standing in Rachel’s room with the two cousins staring expectantly at him, Marco decided he was, in fact, a weenie.

“Yeah but the game _glitched_! I demand a re-do!”

Jake shook his head, “I won fair and square Marco, now _do it_!”

Rachel leaned back on her bed, and Marco could _feel_ the smug grin on her face from where he was _not_ meeting her eyes.

Marco decided for another route, “C’mon man, don’t you have anything _more_ creative? This is so kindergarten.”

Jake shook his head, “No, you’re going to do this.”

“And I’m going to take a picture!” Rachel told him.

“Pictures were _not_ part of the dare!” Marco shouted, “there will be _absolutely_ no picture taking!”

Jake shrugged, “Alright, I can concede that.”

“Put it _on_!” Rachel gestured to the bag at his feet, “I didn’t spend all afternoon finding you the manliest one for nothing.”

“There’s nothing manly about this,” Marco muttered. He reached down to pull his dare from the bag. He had to wear this for a _whole day_. Most of the time Jake was a total dweeb and he was lucky he had Marco to do all his thinking for him, and then there were times like this…

Marco held the skirt at a distance like it was going to bite him.

“That’s not how you wear it,” Rachel taunted.

“I’ll wear it all day but I am _not_ leaving the house,” Marco told them. He drew the line there, and he would even morph gorilla to make sure they couldn’t move him. A gorilla in a skirt—that was almost a worse image. Insulting a creature so powerful and strong by putting a stupid skirt on it.

He decided to just bite the bullet and dropped his pants right there. Marco had been on the verge of this for a few minutes now, so already had his belt undone. Jake made an effort to give him some privacy but Rachel didn’t bother looking away.

Pulling the skirt on felt _weird_. There was nothing in between his legs and it left even the skin _above_ his knees open to the air. He’d never worn anything this short—all of his shorts even went below his knees. Marco felt incredibly exposed and wanted to cover himself immediately. Jake and Rachel burst out in hoots of laughter. Marco felt a wave of shame and twisted his hands in the fabric of the skirt, aware of how it pulled the material higher on his legs. This was almost _worse_ than if he was standing naked. He felt insulted and just plain _wrong._

“You look _beautiful_ ,” Jake sniggered in between gasps of air. Rachel had nearly fallen off of her bed and was crying in laughter.

Something twisted in Marco’s stomach at Jake’s words—something that almost felt kinda _good_. Marco pretended he hadn’t felt it immediately. He was still rooted to the spot, knees locked together like a deer in the headlights. It was stupid that something so tiny—he couldn’t get over how _small_ it felt—could bring him to a standstill. Marco had faced down Visser 3 and Taxxons and Hork-Bajir using his own bare hands! And it was this stupid article of clothing that was making him freeze up.

He turned carefully, knowing Rachel had a full-length mirror just behind him. Marco was afraid to lift his feet off of the floor in case… he didn’t know—but he wasn’t sure how anyone was supposed to move in a skirt without it flying up all over the place. He had enough humiliation in his life already.

Staring at himself—at the long lengths of leg he was showing, and how this shirt was just long enough to cover the top of the skirt and how his hair hung down to his shoulders—Marco’s stomach dropped as Jake’s words echoed in his head again. _You look beautiful_. He tried to feel anger or bitterness at the taunt, but again, that feeling… Marco _liked_ it. He _liked_ the way he looked and now that the initial strangeness of the feeling was wearing off, Marco even liked how the skirt _felt_.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he mumbled before bolting out of Rachel’s room. Jake and Rachel were still chuckling and spitting half-sentences to one another.

Marco all but slammed the door behind himself and locked it so hard he thought he might snap the door handle right off the frame. His hands were shaking as he stepped back. The bathroom mirror only showed him to the counter—which was at his waist level. He couldn’t see the bottom of the skirt, as much as he could feel it.

Marco looked into his own face and realized his eyes looked wet. He didn’t know why he wanted to cry. This was so stupid! He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to stop shaking and will himself not to cry. Marco relied on his old habits and pinched the crook of his elbow until he calmed down.

He stepped back from the counter, turning slowly as he looked down at his feet. It felt a lot better. This felt more than better—this felt _good_. It was a feeling like wearing a worn sweater or waking up feeling warm and safe. Marco bit his lip. Could he admit it?

The thought formed before he could stop it. Wearing the skirt felt better than good—it felt _right_. It felt right in a way that boys weren’t supposed to feel wearing a skirt.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Hey, Marco! I need to use the bathroom!” Jake knew very well there was another bathroom downstairs and Marco didn’t want to let him in.

But Jake _knew_ there was another bathroom and he was coming to this one anything. Marco glanced in the mirror—tried to wipe the trembling smile from his face to look frustrated instead—and opened the door.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked softly, so that Rachel wouldn’t hear.

“I’m dying here man,” Marco hoped his agonized tone was convincing enough. Jake couldn’t know how _good_ he was feeling right now, “now excuse me I have TV to watch!”

Momentarily Marco thought about throwing in a comment about how he looked much better in his skirt than Rachel—and his stomach dropped. Was that something he would normally say? What if Jake or Rachel figured out he _liked_ wearing the skirt? He ran down the stairs before Jake could reply.

Rachel joined Marco while he grabbed a glass of water in the kitchen. He was parched like he’d run a mile and running on adrenaline like he’d just come from battle. Marco felt a little nauseous and he used that to try and look angry.

“I think we should make some lunch,” Rachel grinned. She made a show of looking up and down his body.

Marco felt insulted, slightly aroused and enraged in a way he couldn’t explain, “Just because I’m wearing a skirt doesn’t make me a chick!”

Rachel’s smile faltered, “I didn’t say anything _like_ that you moron! Besides, why do you think only girls cook?”

“Not only girls cook! That’s so archaic!” Marco rolled his eyes, “I thought you knew that!”

“Ugh,” Rachel threw up her hands in frustration, “that’s what I was _saying_!”

“No you said I had to cook because I’m wearing this stupid skirt!”

“It’s a _kilt_ ,” Rachel snapped.

Jake wandered into the room, glancing nervously between his cousin and his best friend, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Marco snapped. He stormed past the two of them and went to watch TV. He couldn’t find the remote and instead of asking for assistance, sulked into one of the chairs instead.

“I’ll make some lunch,” he heard Jake say, “I’m starving.”

“Good,” Rachel mumbled. Jake and her talked a bit more but Marco didn’t care. He was more interested in how weird it felt to be sitting in a skirt. It seemed almost obscene how high the skirt rode on his legs, and how he could feel the material of the chair against his thighs.

Rachel came in a few minutes later and pulled the remote out of a drawer in the coffee table. She turned on a random channel without a word and flopped down on the couch, her feet sticking out towards him. They could hear Jake bustling around in the kitchen.

Rachel kept glancing at Marco. She was giving him really weird looks, but he wasn’t in the mood to keep fighting with her. He was trying to think of a way he was going to take the skirt home. Maybe not home—what if his dad found it? But somewhere. Marco wanted to be able to wear it again. In secret, of course. Maybe he could sneak in at night and fly away with it (could an osprey or an owl carry that much weight?) Or if he made a show of throwing it away he could go through Rachel’s trash later on. Even though that would be a really freaky thing to do. What if he got caught? How would he explain his way out of that one?

It was so weird. Everything about this stupid dare was so weird and screw Jake for even thinking the whole thing up and screw Rachel for buying it for them in the first place. Marco didn’t want to think about what it said about him that he liked wearing it. But it felt good and he wasn’t hurting anyone. Marco figured he deserved a little bit of happiness.

If only Rachel would stop looking at him like that. Girls were so _weird_ sometimes.

 

 


End file.
